“Fun isn’t the word,” I whisper.
“Oh?” His thumb tilts my chin, breath skimming my mouth. “What would you call it?”
“Regret.”
His laugh is low and rich.
“Vale.” A low growl cuts through the music. Cassian stills. The smile drains from his mouth as he drops his hands.
“Your Highness,” he says nervously, bowing low before his king.
“The lady and I—”
“Save it.” Keiren’s voice is iron wrapped in smoke. “Your sister is asking for you.”
Cassian steps back with a smile, offering an overly elaborate bow, verging on mockery. “I’ll take my leave, then, Your Highness.”
Keiren doesn’t spare him a glance. His gaze is fixed entirely on me.
I look up into eyes, no longer sapphire but threaded faintly with gold beneath the light.
“May I have this dance?” His voice is deep. Predatory.
I nod, clenching my core, struggling to keep myself vertical as the room tilts just enough to notice.
“Your Majesty,” I murmur, attempting a curtsey.
My balance tips, from wine—and nerves. I nearly fall, but he’s already moving, drawing me into the rhythm of the next song so smoothly that it looks intentional. His palm settles at my spine, firm and warm through the silk, anchoring me before anyone can see the misstep.
The room hushes. Even the musicians seem to play more softly for him.
He leads us into a slow turn, unhurried, attentive. Not testing—just present. I miss the step by half a count. He compensates instantly, shifting his grip, turning the mistake into something graceful.
“You look lovely tonight,” he murmurs.
“Just tonight?” I quip, though my laugh comes out thin. The mirrors blur at the edges, candlelight smearing into streaks of gold.
He spins me, controlled and precise, then draws me back until my spine rests against his chest.
“Are you baiting me for compliments, Fire?” he asks quietly.
“Of course not, Your Majesty,” I reply, breath catching as his lips graze the shell of my ear.
“Because if you are,” he continues, hands sliding from my waist to guide my arms upward, slow and reverent, “I’m happy to oblige.”
He lifts my hands above my head, fingers warm and deliberate, the movement coaxing a shiver I can’t stop. The music swells. His touch lingers just long enough to feel intentional, then he turns me again, guiding me back to face him.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says softly. “Tonight or any night.”
My pulse stutters. Damn this man and his dangerous way with words.
He keeps hold of my hands as he spins me once more, then releases them so my arms settle naturally over his shoulders, loosely locked behind his neck.
“Keiren…” I whisper.
“Yes, my Fire?”
The wordmycoils low in my stomach. Because I am his—and he is mine.
